


Folk of the Air One-Shots

by ohmsem



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: Angst, Book 1: The Cruel Prince, Book 2: The Wicked King, Book 3: The Queen of Nothing, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Post-Book 1: The Cruel Prince, Post-Book 2: The Wicked King, Post-Book 3: The Queen of Nothing, jurdan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23813572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmsem/pseuds/ohmsem
Summary: "I don't blame you, for being you, but you can't blame me for hating it.She said 'what are you waiting for?'Kiss her, kiss herI set my clocks early, 'cause I know I'm always late."
Relationships: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar
Comments: 13
Kudos: 118





	1. Why Don't You Just Drop Dead?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I don't blame you, for being you, but you can't blame me for hating it.  
> She said 'what are you waiting for?'  
> Kiss her, kiss her  
> I set my clocks early, 'cause I know I'm always late."

Nobody told me that marriage was this difficult. I knew it wouldn't be like the movies Vivi watched back in her apartment, but I wasn't expecting this much...fighting. Screaming. Going to sleep in our old rooms and not making eye contact until the party that night when we're drunk enough on power and wine to forget what we were arguing about in the first place. 

Tonight, however, the bickering starts early. As soon as we wake up, in fact, with the sun 3/4ths of the way across the sky. 

"We haven't spoken to the Living Council in weeks, Cardan. Unless you want this whole damn world to fall into inter-court conflict, we need speak with them," I'm saying, combing my hair hard enough that chunks might fall out. Drips from my still wet hair are soaking the shoulders of my dressing gown, but it's the least of my concerns at the moment. 

"I don't understand why you need me. You act like you don't want me around all the time, but when I'm willing to cede my political responsibilities I'm all of a sudden your favorite companion." Cardan's frustratingly even voice floats into our bedchamber from the attached bathroom, where he's lounging casually in a steaming bath. He has one toned leg draped over the lip of the tub, and the opposite arm is tangled in his own hair. He's the image of relaxation, and I can't stand it. 

I stomp into the marble room, making eye contact with him through the mirror. Cardan. The High King. My _husband._

"You're perfectly capable of the political handlings of Elfhame, much as I'm perfectly capable of being the devastatingly handsome figurehead," he continues. "You married me for power--we both know it. So take the fucking power, Jude. I'm giving it to you." His tone remains even and unbothered, making me want to strangle him more. How did I think this relationship could work?

"Lest you forget, I'm mortal." Cardan opens his mouth, but I continue before he can cut me off. "They don't take me seriously, and I don't have your skill with persuasion. Is it so bothersome to take five minutes out of your oh-so-busy day to come be an actual king?"

The king in references finally sits up, now resting his elbows on the golden edge of the tub. He looks at me through he mirror with large, unreadable eyes for a moment too long. I open my mouth to tell him to hurry up and say whatever he was going to say, but he does so without my goading. 

"I didn't know they didn't take you seriously."

Of course he didn't. 

"I thought that, when you became queen, it would garner respect. I thought that, maybe, people would forget that you're not from here."

"Well, they didn't," I tell him, but the edge I intended to have in my voice is dull. "They didn't, and I need you." I finally turn to face Cardan, and I expect to see a self-satisfied smirk at the confession of my need. Instead, I make eye contact with the same blank stare from before. 

"I'll go with you, at least for now. But don't expect this conversation to stay in here. The Council, the revelers--everyone. They're going to be taught to respect you, however that needs to be done."

There's a threat in the High King's words, reminding me of the power he holds and, oddly enough, the confidence he gives me in myself. Even when he was constantly trying to make me doubt myself, he's only ever encouraged me to try harder. To prove him wrong, and now, to prove them wrong. 

I stand there for a moment more, speechless, before leaving wordlessly to get ready for the Council meeting gin less than an hour. The exhale that follows me out of the room is proof enough that Cardan will be out and readying with me soon, and it's almost a relief. I'm still mad at him, but it's quickly fading as I put on my most regal looking gown and start braiding my hair around the crown I place atop it. 

Cardan's out of the tub now, and I place the last hair pin as he wraps his still naked body around me from behind. 

"Do you think we fight too much?" I ask him, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach that forms when I think about the implication of my question. 

Cardan looks thoughtful for a minute, but keeps his arms around me and his nose in my hair. "Maybe. But when have we not fought? It's how we communicate."

"Well, I don't like," I say rather sheepishly. "I want to communicate without feeling like you're going to reject my tittle or start taking other women here when I'm back in my room seething. I want to get along with you. I don't want his to be a purely political alliance." 

"I've never seen it as a political alliance," he says equally softly. "We'll work on it, okay? We have years ahead of us to get marriage right. We have years ahead of us to get everything right, and we'll do it."

He unwraps himself from me and moves to his own wardrobe to get ready, while I grab some glitter from my own desk to apply to the high points of his face. We don't talk for the rest of the hour, but by the time we're being escorted by our guards to the meeting room the knot in my stomach's unraveled. 


	2. Kiss and Kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They'll talk about us,   
> All the lovers,  
> How we kiss and kill each other.   
> (Oh how fast the evening passes   
> Cleaning up the champagne glasses)"

As if sensing the establishment of a new High Queen, the day after my coronation the ruined throne formed two new ones from its crack. The thrones were exactly the same, made out of twisting birchwood branches and cushioned with a forest green moss for comfortable sitting. There was no regard for who sat where, but I'm a creature of habit and always took the throne to the right of Cardan. He seemed comfortable enough with the decision, if not slightly amused at my insistence on consistency. 

He said so one night as we were hosting a revel, remarking on the "absurdity" of my "geographic commitments". 

"We've been living in uncertainty for so long, so I'll take predictability anywhere I can get," I had explained, though the answer was met with an amused roll of the eyes as we both turned to face our court. The revel was being held in honor of the Court of Termites visiting for political strategizing, which allowed for the crowd in the hall to be larger and more diverse than usual. 

Occasionally we had petitioners approach the throne with bows for Cardan and hesitant bends at the waist for me. Despite knowing that I was the force behind many of the High King's most important decisions, my presence on the throne was only ever begrudgingly acknowledged. On this night, an extraordinarily tall Fat woman with tree-bark skin was approaching us with two sapling-like children in tow. I straightened my back and lifted my chin as she neared, while Cardan seemed to lounge even further back into his twin throne. 

"Good evening, your majesties," the women addressed us, curtsying deeply for both. I felt a glimmer of honor at the formality, despite knowing that it should be an expectation. A smile creeped at my lips as she directed the two saplings to do the same, though their pleasantries were mumbled in matching trebles. 

"Good evening. On what business do you approach the throne?" Cardan said, his voice completely neutral. 

"My name is Lilithia, and me and my children come from a new village on the western borders. We began construction recently after the war, and I've been sent as a treasurer to request funds for assistance."

The king and I exchanged glances, knowing that I'd be inclined to offer kindness in whatever form it was required. I kept silent, however, allowing Cardan to assess the situation and continue when the silence went on just long enough to be uncomfortable. 

"And why are your own funds unable to provide?" he asked, bringing a chill to his voice that put a pit in my stomach. 

Lilithia straightened slightly, seeming to have expected this question. "We previously lived on the eastern coast, and withstood several attacks from the Undersea when tensions were highest between us. They may have assumed we were part of the Court of Termites, so we never reported it to the crown. Instead, we disbanded the village and moved westward, though much of our wealth and possessions were left behind."

"How much would you require?'

"As much as you'd be willing to give, your highness."

My heart ached for the tree woman and her village, caught in the crossfires in a conflict we had no desires to initiate in the first place. 

"Come back to me in three days' time and we'll discuss the decision surrounding your request," Cardan said as he dismissed the trio with a wave of his hand. Once a safe distance away, I leaned to the left my throne and spoke without waiting to see if his attention was on me. 

"Why would you leave her anxious like that?" I nearly hissed. "We have funds specifically set aside for this, and it won't take three days to alert the Royal Treasurer and get a plan drawn up. Have you no sympathy?"

The amused look in his eye made me escalate from slightly annoyed to pissed off. "Of course she'll get the money."

"Then why make her wait?"

"Perhaps I wanted to deliberate with my dear wife beforehand to get her opinion." I rolled my eyes, knowing that we were both fully aware that I was in full support of her cause. Though the "perhaps" of his statement made it truthful enough for him to speak, we both knew it wasn't entirely accurate. 

"You're cruel. And more than that, you're an idiot."

Cardan merely smirked and readjusted the crown sitting atop his head as he turned toward the crowd of revelers, some of which were turned and staring between the both of us in interest. For the rest of the night, I pretended to have more important things on my mind than to continue conversing with my husband. 

...

I was still irritated as we retired for the night, reaching our bedchambers as the sunrise would be peeking over the horizon. Despite my temper, Cardan continued to wear a self-satisfied smile as he went about our nightly routine, being especially courteous to me when asking if I would like any tea. 

"No, I would not like any tea. Instead, I would like a co-ruler who respects the time and feelings of his subjects. More than that, I'd like a husband who cares for the input of his wife."

Cardan smiled to himself and sat on the sofa next to me, his back against the armrest and his knee resting against mine. "I do care for the input of my wife. Why else would I be making the decision you want?"

"You don't, because I also want you give that poor woman peace of mind. I don't even understand why this has to be an argument," I said. Despite the conversation, I was avoiding his gaze as if neither of us were speaking at all. 

"That's exactly it, though. It did have to be an argument," Cardan confirmed as if explaining something to a child. "We have spent the last decade hating each other and disagreeing at every turn, and in that we have been at our most formidable."

I finally turned my eyes to meet his dark ones, now glittering. Noticing my interest and confusion, he continued. 

"If we were to become a loving couple with no tension between them, we would both lose some of our most fear-inspiring qualities and moments. We may be lovers, but we have been enemies for far longer, dear Jude, and we can't abandon that just because of two vows and one ring."

My cheeks burned, and I hated that he made sense. Convoluted sense in the only way the Folk knew how, but still something I could understand. "I disagree with your logic," I merely said, choosing the leave the conversation there. 

Of course, Cardan could never agree with what I choose. "But you agree with my conclusion," he prodded, trailing me as I approached a mirror in which to undo my complicated hair style.

"Perhaps."

He chuckled a little bit as he helped me remove hair pins and knots that did my hair up. Despite myself, my shoulders relaxed from the tensed position I didn't know I was holding until then. He did have a point. 


	3. Ain't Gonna Break My Heart

"If you're gonna leave, 

it ain't gonna break my heart, mama. 

I've never seen nobody quite like you.

But if you ever change your tune, 

oh the world's got the best of you,

you can always find me where the skies are blue". 

(Pre-QON Post-Wicked King hehe)

It had been nearly two weeks since Cardan had exiled Jude from Faerie. He expected her to wait a few days and come back, but as the days became a week and the week stretched on, his concern grew. Advisors were constantly at his door, prodding for Cardan to get out of bed and attend to political matters, but every time they were shooed away by a bed-ridden king. 

_I must have placed too much faith in her,_ Cardan thought one evening as the sun began to set. Usually he'd be out of bed by now, attending a revel or walking the gardens, but the heartsickness he felt had manifested in a sick stomach that kept him sprawled within his sheets. _The marriage was a political alliance_ , he told himself, _and she's obviously decided the sacrifice of spending time with me was too much to handle._

How pathetic. Cardan couldn't believe he was moping over a girl--a mortal girl, nonetheless--when any boy or girl in Elfhame would be happy to bed him. But whether he liked it or not, the reality of the situation was crushing. The High King of Elfhame had his regal faerie heart broken by a mortal girl who hated him. 

Jude. A horrible name, really. A one syllable disaster that never felt complete when repeated over and over again. 

And yet, Cardan still found himself mouthing the syllable as he woke up from dreams of her at his side. As the world outside his window darkened with the dusk, Cardan pulled himself out of bed for the first time in days. The rush of blood to the head was almost enough to knock him off his feet, but he placed one hand on the bed for balance and walked over to the dark oak writing desk at the foot of it. 

Sitting down and running thin fingers through his knotted hair, Cardan already thought of the letter he would compose. Slowly and almost painfully, he reached for an ink pot and piece of parchment to scrawl out the words he wanted her to hear. 

_Dear Jude,_

_There are several reasons I've decided on that could be behind your disappearance from Faerie._

_One, you misunderstood my demand and think I've truly exiled you. This is the least likely scenario, as your intelligence far outranks mine (which is already considerable)._

_Two, you're angry at me and think distance will make my heart grow fonder. I understand, but I hate to think of you stooping down to petty absence. My heart was plenty fond for you already, and I didn't even vomit on myself when writing that. There's a testament to my unabashed fondness, and my own current sobriety._

_Three, and perhaps the most heartbreaking of all, is that you simply don't want to return. I know that you felt as if Faerie could never be your home, and I know I've helped make it seem that way in my darkest moments. But please know that, if you want a warm bed to return to, I will make it a home for you. I will do whatever you wish, if it will only get you back._

_All my love and some of my hate,_

_Cardan._

In disgust, Cardan looked at his own scrawled plea for her affection. It was desperate, and if anyone were to find it, the letter would be taken as evidence of his weakness. The king settled for hoping she received his other letters, and through this one in the fire. As the words disappeared into Ash, he sat on the floor and watched. A single line--"my heart was plenty fond for you already"--was the last to burn, and as it did so, Cardan felt a trickle of wetness trail down his cheek. 


	4. Let's Kill Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "May your feet serve you well,   
> And the rest be sent to hell  
> Where they always have belonged.   
> Cold hearts grow colder songs.  
> Fate will play us out  
> With a song of pure romance.   
> Stomp your feet and clap your hands.
> 
> Let's kill tonight, show them all you're not the ordinary type."

It wasn't that Jude enjoyed killing. In fact, the courtesy rules surrounding all actions in Elfhame prevented her from seeking it as a first, second, or even third option. But as ashamed as the High Queen was to admit it, she enjoyed riding into battle with the King at her side, Nightfell slung at her hip. She felt powerful, and that was a feeling she had always sought. 

Though Cardan was in many ways a figurehead of the High Royals, Jude had begun to carve a name for herself in battles between settlements. This fact had gone unaware to her for quite a while, until one day when she heard someone cry as her horse beta its hooves along the sand, leading to a battle between a rebelling Undersea militia and an Unseelie territory bordering the ocean. 

"The Warrior Queen has arrived!" she heard a high voice declare, followed by grateful cheers and whoops from the Unseelie Folk. Now facing her direction, Jude got a true sense of how badly ravaged the settlement had been, with bodies strewn about with water and seaweeds till blocking their noses and mouths. 

With only a passing thought for the expectation the new title would bring her, Jude charged through the clearest line division and used Nighfell to knock down the blue and green warriors to her right. Having cleared the other side, the Queen jumped off her steed and ran into the thick of the Undersea group. If her father had taught her anything, it was that nothing was more effective than a surprise. 

Surrounded on all sides by every type of menfolk imaginable, Jude circled and diverted the militia's attention from the settlement. She jabbed at middles, scraped gashes like gills into necks, and kicked at unsteady legs as quickly as she possibly could. 

The circle around her, though thinning, was beginning to tighten into a claustrophobic ring of enemies. 

Jude tried not to let panic overtake her as she ignored the mumbles of the Folk around her. "How much I've always wanted to kill a queen," a ghastly white creature with exposed nostrils snarled before taking a slash of the sword to the face. 

"Mortal blood tastes the best," said a creature like kelp personified before meeting a similar fate. 

Jude felt her breath quicken as weapons and fingernails began to tear at her hair, clothes, and skin. She felt as if the Undersea fighters could smell her fear, and relished in the mouse-like gasp she gave as she felt something cool and sharp slash at the back of her neck.

Immediately Jude's vision went blurry, but she pushed through a faltering in the circle to regroup and recover. Much to her dismay, the Unseelie fighters were still vastly outnumbered, though the casualties strewn about were beginning to appear more equal.

She steeled herself and charged forward, but the weight of Nightfell suddenly grew too heavy. The High Queen of Elfhame, daughter of Madoc the Redcap, Warrior Queen, fell disgracefully to the ground.

...

When Jude woke again, it was against a white canvas lain over something knobby and rough. She blinked her sticky eyes open and gazed between leafless branches of trees to the purple sky above, and attempted to sit up before being pushed roughly back to the ground. 

"Remain still, my Queen," a voice said from beside Jude, much closer than she had expected. She attempted to turn her head towards the sound, but the action sent a dull throb of pain through the back of her neck and into her skull. 

A bony, thin hand stroked Jude's hair as she groaned and shut her eyes again. "The castle has been alerted and is sending someone back to retrieve you," the voice said again, in a rough voice not unlike a fairytale witch's. 

"No..." Jude tried to get out. "Not...not the castle. They didn't--". She was cut short by a hacking cough that was laced with whimpers as her head moved with the effort. The creature to her left seemed unconcerned, and only laughed. 

"Was the Warrior Queen not meant to be out?" it asked tauntingly. "Is the Warrior Queen so fragile?"

The voice and its supposed owner had shown Jude kindness so far, but the words had a bite to them that made her feel threatened. With minimal movement, she tensed up like a frightened animal. "I'm not--" she began before swallowing and repeating slightly more comfortably. "I'm not a lap dog. They don't control me. I just don't want them to worry about me." The declaration was meant to sound fierce and regal, but really came out sounding more like a defensive child. 

The voice chuckled and began stroking Jude's hair again. "Is--is the town okay?" she asked after a few moments, already feeling her eyes getting heavier. She didn't hear the answer as she drifted away. 

...

When Jude awoke again, she was lain in a cot in the dark chambers of the infirmary. Through as series of tall windows on one side of the room she could tell it was bright outside, almost midday. This time, there was a glass of water on the tray to her left, which she gladly picked up. In trying to raise it to her lips, however, she felt a great throb of pain from her neck and spilled the water over her blood stained bodice. 

"Jude? Are you awake?" came a familiar tenor voice from the other side. Jude slowly turned her head to the direction, but hissed at the migraine forming with the effort. The voice chuckled and Cardan reached his hands to her waist, helping hoist her body up by the hips to sit up straight. 

"I need to change the bandages on your neck, but the cut wasn't too deep. Just poorly placed," he explained before ripping a damp fabric from the nape of her neck. Jude saw the red-soaked bandage thrown into a bin to the side before feeling a much cleaner one placed in the same spot. "It has a soothing oil on it, so you should feel better in a minute."

Jude began the same sentence a few times before giving up and gesturing towards the now empty water cup on her lap. Cardan laughed again--a chuckle that sounded mocking but she knew reflected the King's worry. He picked up the glassware and filled it from a vase behind him before lifting the drink to Jude's lips. 

"Are they okay?" she asked once the liquid was down her throat, swallowing the remnants of her deep sleep with it. 

"Yes. The healer who handed you over to me--a hag of a woman, if you were curious--said you were quite valiant. I believe that I heard the word 'reckless', though. Maybe it was 'idiotic'."

"They needed help, and I heard the call," Jude tried to explain, but it didn't matter. The Queen wasn't supposed to get herself injured, no matter how noble the reason. 

"I know, Jude. But we've talked about this before. Send some soldiers. But you can't send yourself."

"Why not?" she asked, a note of anger rising into her voice. "They call me the Warrior Queen, Cardan. They cheered for me. They wanted me."

A beat of silence passed before Cardan answered, this time softly. "They'll want you no matter what, Jude. You don't need to prove yourself by putting yourself in danger."

Both of them quieted in the uncomfortable silence of a true statement. 

Cardan stood off his stool and scooted himself next to Jude on the too small cot, careful to move gently. She laid back again, hinging at the hips, and he turned and wrapped an arm around her as she closed her eyes. "You don't need to prove yourself," he whispered, kissing her shoulder and settling in as she drifted into another round of dreams. 


	5. Out the Window

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Fever dream high in the quiet of the night,  
> You know that I caught it.   
> Bad, bad boy, shiny toy with a price,  
> You know that I bought it.   
> Killing me slow, out the window,  
> I'm always waiting for you to be waiting below.   
> Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes,  
> What doesn't kill me makes me want you more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place during/before/around TCP. It's a little shorter because I'm going to split it into two parts!

Cardan knew that there were a lot of great things about Faerie—he was, after all, a prince, and experienced each wonder to the highest degree. But on one cool night, just before dawn, he  decided that he had found the best. 

Cardan could hear his older brother’s raised voice from his second story room, and the muffled tone  told him it must be coming from the parlor at the far end of the hall. The dinner  Balekin hosted for the rosy-skinned suitor and her father had wrapped up h ours ago, but it appeared the deliberations about his decision to officially court her were reaching a climax of their own. Crawling out of bed and putting an ear to the door, Cardan could make out snat ches of the “conversation” between his brother and the girl’s father, who seemed to be at odds about the relationship. 

It was all too much, Cardan thought. If he couldn’t feel anything above lust for a faerie girl,  Balekin must not be able to either. But the young prince was  restless, and staying  in his stuffy chambers was unappealing. Instead, he slipped on a pair of trousers and a blouse . Before slipping out the window, Cardan grabbed a novel at random from the nearest shelf and proceeded to jump between ledges to reach the ground. 

The prince  began to trek through the woods next to the estate, having little care for how far he went or in what direction he wandered. He watched the bark on the trees change from a dark oak to a milky  white, and  continued on unt il the branches became sparser and sparser and the moonlight illuminated his path better. 

The grass was thick and filled with white, pink, and baby blue flowers by the time Cardan decided to sit down.  The air here was thick with a sweet scent, but it wasn’t the magical kind that brought energy to his bones. This scent was the kind that could lull one to sleep, like enchanted poppies. He was still restless, however, and instead lay down on a cushion of grass and began to read the book he had brought. It was a collection of stories from L. Frank Baum’s “The Wizard of Oz”, and the bright imagery soothed him as he flipped through  the pages and felt his ever racing heart began to rest. 

That was, until he heard a crash through the brush to his left. 

“What the hell?” Cardan asked himself as he shot up and through the book down. It sounded as if someone had been running quickly from their spot watching him, and the thought of being spied upon while reading was more embarrassing than politically concerning.  With the knot in his stomach giving him energy, Cardan began to race after the sound in the woods. 

The teenage boy’s long legs brought him quickly to a figure in a brown cloak, still running fast. Cardan took a leap and tackled the person from beh ind, using one hand to undo the clasp of the cloak and the other to tear off the thick hood. 

Though the person hadn’t been panting as they ran, her breath came fast as Jude looked up at Cardan with wide eyes. “I’m sorry--” she began, trying to squirm loose enough to run again. “I didn’t see anything, I just—I ’m going, I’m going home.” 

Cardan loosened his grip on  Jude, but kept a hand around her wrist to keep her from going. “What were you doing out there?” he said, trying to keep his voice even. Cardan prayed that Jude couldn’t see the heat rushing up his neck and cheeks in  the dim light, though he felt it all the same. 

She shook her head, eyes still wide, and tried to turn around. 

“I asked you a question.” Cardan tightened his grip on Jude’s wrist and tugged her back toward him. She stumbled backwards and turned to face him. 

“I just wanted to get out of the house,” she replied, face even. He could tell, however, that her pupils were blown with adrenaline. Whether it be from the fight or from seeing him in the  _ most  _ embarrassing of situations, he was unsure. 

“Then why go back?” he asked her. Cardan was careful to add the lilt of somebody who didn’t care to his question, though his racing heart and knotting stomach  were proof of the hope behind what was really a request. 

“My spot is obviously occupied,” Jude quipped, and Cardan’s eyebrows shot up. 

“ _ Your _ spot?” he snorted. “I’ll remind you that I am the prince, Jude. All of  Elfhame is my spot.”

“Okay.  So I’ll go home.” Jude turned on her heel as Cardan finally released her wrist and watched her go. 

“You don’t have to,” he breathed once she was a few steps away. Cardan would have assumed she didn’t hear him but for the slightest hitch in her step. As quick as it happened, though, she continued on her way. 

Cardan released a breath and turned around himself, resolving to grab his book and head home. 


	6. Another Graceless Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Every night I live and die,   
> Feel the party to my bones.  
> Watch the wasters blow the speakers,  
> Spill my guts beneath the outdoor lights.  
> It's just another graceless night."

It had been only a few weeks since Jude’s scheme to crown Cardan had played out, but the time passed painfully slow.  Almost every night, Cardan dragged her down to the throne room or the gardens to stand silently while every faerie in the area came to get wasted. Though her thoughts were occasionally occupied by people coming for ad vice and requests, Jude spent  the majority of her nights standing on sore feet behind the drunk High King. As the afternoon progressed into evening and Jude began to get dressed, she found herself dreading another night of royal babysitting and damage control. 

A knock sounded at Jude’s door as she placed jewelry around her ears, trying to mimic the pointed shape she often envied. Before she could welcome the knocker in, the door swung open and she saw Cardan approach from the corner of her eye. 

“Pretending to be fae, I see,” he commented, taking in her appearance as he sat on the unmade bed. Jude felt judged under his gaze and shifted slightly away from him, pretending to be too occupied with getting this earring perfect to respond to his comment. 

“ What do you want,  _ High King _ ?” she responded instead, adding a bite to the words. 

“Some company,  _ seneschal _ .” Jude was sure she heard the sneer in his  voice, but didn’t turn around to check. “Are you coming tonight?” Cardan continued. 

“I didn’t know I had the choice. Who else will keep you from vomiting all over yourself or dancing on tables?” Jude began to brush her hair and looked for Cardan’s reaction in the mirror, expecting to se e ambivalence or anger. Instead, his pale cheeks flushed as if he was embarrassed. 

“ Of course you have a choice. But your presence is...appreciated, regardless.” Cardan flopped on to her bed and looked around. “We can send a servant in here to clean for you, if you’d like.” It was now Jude’s turn to blush. She had nearly forgotten what  her messy room must have looked like to an outsider. 

“It’s no matter,” she said. Spinning around on the stool to face Cardan. “But really, what did you come here for? Other than my ‘company’?”

“I’m trying to avoid the Living Council,” he said, sitting back up and running a hand through his hair. It was still slightly damp from bathing earlier, and even from her distance Jude could smell the  clean scent coming  off of him. “They keep wanting me to meet with them and discuss  things, and seem very much oblivious to my requests that they leave me to plan the things I’m best at—parties.”

Jude snorted and stood. “How dare they reach out to the King to do King things,” she sarcastically agreed, though it seemed to go over his head. 

“I know!”

Jude rolled her eyes. “We’re about to have to leave anyways, people will be arriving soon,” she told him. Cardan grabbed her shoulder to steady himself as he stood up from her bed, his long legs straightening. 

“Duty awaits.” He grabbed her arm and practically dragged her out of the room and down the halls, and she felt much like a hesitan t child avoiding attending lessons for the day. 

…

The night was as uneventful as them all, though the scenery outside was a welcome change. As Jude swayed slightly on her feet to the music, she could  clear her mind and focus instead on atmosphere surrounding her. The  fae lights illuminating the trees, the breeze blowing through her loose hair, the otherworldly music that people danced to for hours. She watched Cardan flirt and twirl with women  across the floor, pausing only in his advances to find another drink or switch to another girl. Having supposedly found his companion for the night,  he took a pixie by the hand and lead her up to the throne, where s he perched on his lap.  Jude pretended not to see the way he whispered playfully in her ear, or the way she occasionally moved her hips against his. 

The night had drawn on long before people started to dismiss themselves, and when Cardan and the pixie stood Jude dismissed herself. He was obviously taken care of for the night. 

As she wandered towards the castle and through the halls that led to her chambers, Jude found her mind wandering to worry about Cardan. Was he in his room by now? Or were they giggling their way drunkenly through the hall , occasionally pressing against  walls? Jude was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice the man sitting in her room until she practically ran into him. 

The figure began speaking, but not before Jude drew a dagger and was holding it underneath his chin, above her head. 

“Jude! What are you doing?” he asked, and Jude took a step back to look up and see the face of Cardan. Her stomach untwisted itself and she looked around for his pixie girlfriend. 

“You’re an intruder in my room,” she grumbled, putting her dagger away and moving around to gather her things to go to sleep. “I expected you to be back in your own bed already .”

“When am I ever asleep this early?” he asked. 

“When you’ve got someone laying with you. I never said you’d be asleep.”

Cardan laughed, grabbing her arm. “She’s perhaps the most boring suitor I’ve ever had. We said our goodnights as soon as you left.” 

“Okay. So why are you here?” Jude asked, pulling her arm free. She didn’t want to hear about his suitors, or how interesting they usually were. What she wanted was to take a bath and crawl into bed and not get out for another day. 

“I was worried.” Jude paused in her collection of bedclothes and bath supplies to look up at him, and found his face looking far more genuine than she was used to seeing. The question on her face must have translated, because Cardan respo nded softly. “You never leave without me. I was just making sure everything was okay.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t realized he had ever been  sober enough—or cared enough—to notice  whether or not she was there. Was he reading into  it? Was  _ she  _ reading into it? It was her duty to make sure he got to bed alright, wasn’t it? 

“I just thought you were preoccupied, so I left,” she tried to explain, though the words sounded forced and awkward. 

“Okay.” Cardan sat on Jude’s bed and looked up at her. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

He was still drunk, and she could see the evidence in the glitter in his eyes and the flush in his cheeks. “Yes. I promise.”

“Your promises mean nothing, you know,” Cardan said. 

“Well, this one does.  So you can leave, if you’d like.”

Jude turned and went about setting things in their proper places, moving fragrances and soaps to the bathroom counter. When she re-entered her room, Cardan was still sitting on her bed. 

“Do you need me to escort you back to your chambers? Are you too drunk to find your way?” Jude laughed a little bit, trying to ease the tension building in the room. 

“I’m not that drunk. It seems the more I drink the less drunk I get. It’s quite disappointing, really.” 

“Disappointing for you, maybe. The more sober you are the less I have to worry about you  embarrassing yourself.”

Cardan looked up at her with wide eyes. “Embarrassing myself?” Jude immediately regretted saying anything. 

“No, I just meant--” she began, before being cut off. 

“I’m not trying to embarrass myself, Jude. I’m not trying to ignore responsibilities. I’m just trying to...” he paused, searching for the words. “I’m just trying to connect with my subjects. They don’t like me as a ruler. I hope they can like me as a friend.” 

Jude was silent, but he continued. “I don’t like it, but I also don’t like being sober. I wasn’t meant for this job, Jude. I don’t think I can do it.”

“It’s better you than  Balekin ,” Jude told him, sitting on her bed. 

“I know. But it was never supposed to be between us.”

Cardan sat down next to her, and Jude fought the urge to move her leg from where it sat, touching his. “I’m sorry,” she said. 

“I know. I just try not to think about it. That’s the beauty of faerie wine.” 

Jude sighed, but she saw past the thin veil of humor and into the sadness pooling in Cardan’s eyes. Trying not to over think the action, Jude stiffly put her arms around his shoulders. 

After an awkward moment, she pulled away. “I’m not good at comforting people. That’s why nobody opens up to me,” she explained, hoping to push past the moment. 

“You don’t need to comfort me, Jude. Just let me pretend things aren’t the way the are for a time. Would it be too much trouble if I spent the night in here?”

Jude swallowed. “Yeah, I can stay in another room if you want my bed. Or I can get someone to clean it. Or--” she hushed as Cardan stood and stretched. 

“You can stay in here.”  He must still be drunk.

“Oh. Okay.” 

Jude grabbed a nightgown and moved into the bathroom to change, trying desperately to shut down her overthinking brain. When she opened the door, she found Cardan laying under the covers on the less slept in side of the bed. 

“I kept on my pants, since I know how hard it is for women to control themselves around me,” he grinned at her. Jude rolled her eyes and climbed into her own side of the bed. She blew out the candle on her side table and stayed facing away from the boy at her side, expecting to fall asleep like that. Instead, she felt an arm wrap around her and a hand rest at the ends of her hair. 

“ I s this okay?” Cardan asked, softly and sleepily.  Jude nodded, but he seemed to have felt the motion and didn’t move away. 

Against everything Jude had expected a few hours ago, she fell asleep in her bed, High King Cardan wrapped around her. Had she turned around, it would’ve been easy enough to kiss him, to crawl on top of him. 

Maybe he had a point keeping his pants on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so much for the endless support on this work, it means the world and has encouraged me to start working on a full length fit that'll be started here pretty soon. I'm drawing up a plot and everything. 
> 
> For the last one-shot, I actually ended up posting it as part of a separate story on here called "Cruel Summer", which will be a three shot. Since I'm posting stuff there I won't put the second and third chapters of that story into this work, so feel free to check that out if you want to see more.


	7. I Never Thought I'd Tell Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Am I naive to think that he could be the love of my life?  
> There is a voice inside my head that's telling me that it's right.  
> I never thought I'd tell him  
> How scared I am of losing him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: I've never written smut before so a. this is sex and b. this is bad. The content warning is for both the content and the bad writing. Muah.

I woke up to the sound of Cardan whimpering beside me, like a dog in its sleep. Though there was a strip of mattress between our bodies, his arm was still wrapped loosely around my shoulders in a whisper of the position we fell asleep in. I watched him through bleary eyelashes as his face twitched, eyebrows moving and lips adjusting in tandem with whatever was happening in his dreams. Though I wasn't sure whether or not it was a nightmare, the scrunch between Cardan's dark eyebrows considered me and I woke him up anyways. 

"Hey, Cardan. Cardan. Are you awake? Are you okay?" I whispered, nudging his shoulder with my right hand and running it through his hair when he began to stir. "What were you dreaming about?"

Cardan blinked a few times and looked up at me, processing my question. "Nothing, my love," he said, wrapping his hands around my waist and pulling me into him. 

"No, not nothing. You seemed worried. What was it?"

"Did I wake you?"

"Stop skirting around the question Cardan."

He shook his head a little. "I don't really want to talk about it. Just a nightmare." 

I wanted to argue, but I was learning to respect his wishes and feelings the same way he tried to respect mine. Instead, I wrapped myself around him. "You know that you're okay now, right?" I asked, and he laughed a little bit. 

"To be honest with you, I don't. I still worry that sometimes I'll wake up and you won't be here and will have changed your mind. Or that I'll have done something to make you mad. Or that you don't even exist."

I didn't know how to respond to this, but I held him closer to try and communicate that. "I'm sorry I don't always know what to say," I explained after a beat. 

"You don't always have to say something. Just knowing you're here makes me feel better. Even if you were here with a knife to my throat--at least you'd be here."

"I really do love you, Cardan. I just don't always believe I do, I guess. I don't always believe that this is my life and that you're in it." He nodded. I always seem to be more vulnerable at night, when my brain isn't working fast enough to catch up to my mouth. It's still guarded and difficult and often comes out in choked words, but I'm getting better. I'm sure he's noticed. 

Cardan used his right arm to pull me over him, to where I had one leg on either side of his torso. I was afraid he wanted to continue the conversation, ask me to bare more of my soul to him, but as he pulled me onto his mouth I was more sure this wouldn't be the case. 

"I love you," he whispered between kisses. First the corner of my mouth, then the other. Then my chin. Then my cheeks, my nose, my too round ears. Then my lips. At this, I parted slightly to let him, and pushed my tongue on to his. Kissing had always felt a little gross to me--it was warm and Cardan tasted sweet and unfamiliar, and I felt like I thought way too much about what I was doing and whether I was doing it right. But at night, when the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon and my brain was foggy with sleep, I enjoyed getting lost in his mouth. 

"Are you too tired?" he asked after trailing kisses down my jaw and neck. I was breathing heavy and my eyes were closed, allowing the sensations of touch and taste to take over. 

I had to think about it for a minute, but with his mouth trailing across my collarbones and shoulders, I told him I wasn't. I flipped on to my back and pulled him over me, kissing him deeper this time and letting his hands roam over my body. He cupped a breast here, grabbed a thigh there, kissing my mouth all through it. 

"I'm not too tired, but if you keep taking this long I might fall asleep once you're inside me," I joked, pushing him up by his shoulders. He smiled at me, but his eyes roved my face and the exposed part of my chest even as we took a break. 

"Already telling to go faster?" he said instead, and began trailing kisses down my stomach. Cardan's canines nipped at my hips as his fingers traced my thighs. I felt goosebumps rise with the motion and released a sigh as he kissed down the plane of my pubic bone. 

My hands wrapped in his dark hair as he began kissing and licking where I was already wet. "You need a hair cut," I murmured, and the laugh he gave reverberated through me enough that I moaned. 

"I could say the same of you," he added, winking at me from below. To be fair, he wasn't wrong. His nose was buried in the curly hair down there, but I knew he didn't mind. Neither of us did, really, but he still insisted on staying shaved himself. 

Abruptly, Cardan pulled away. I gave a whine at the hit of cool air, but he pretended not to hear as he pulled himself up, back over me. 

"You haven't fingered me or anything," I reminded him as I felt his cock tease my entrance. 

"I know," he told me. With that, he pushed his hips to enter inside of me, and I nearly convulsed with the pleasure. I wrapped my hands around his torso and held on to his back as he slowly--much too slowly--thrusted in and out of me. My back arched when he picked up pace, and began hitting a spot inside me that made me nearly scream. Instead, I turned my head and bit into the pillow.

"I hate when you try to silence yourself, Jude," he told me, grabbing my hair and yanking my mouth away from the fabric and on to his. "You so rarely let _me_ pleasure _you_ , let me indulge myself. 

So I did. When he hit my g-spot the next time, I looked him straight in the eye, grabbed his throat, and moaned his name. 

I felt him twitched inside me at this, and squeezed slightly harder on his neck. In response, he lowered on to me from where he was previously balancing on his arms, and instead rested his entire body weight between my hips. I wrapped my legs and arms back around and scratched down his back, as hard as I could. I bit into his shoulder, pulled on his earlobe with my teeth, and pushed his head up to see me when I came, moaning his name and rolling my eyes back into my head. 

Cardan cursed and stuttered to a halt inside me before pulling out and leaving me warm and probably dripping. He kissed back down from lips and down my neck before pausing to suckle at my breasts, and then continuing his mouth's journey down to where I was leaking his own cum. I watched in surprise and, admittedly, arousal, as he used his mouth to clean me up and pointedly swallowed before coming back up to kiss me. I tasted both of us on his tongue and smiled into his mouth. 

"I love you," he repeated as he shifted to lie on his back. 

"I love you, too." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Missionary is underrated and I will support it.


	8. Lover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Can I go where you go?  
> Can we always be this close?  
> Forever and ever.  
> Take me out, and take me home  
> You're my, my, my, my,   
> Lover."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've already said this on twitter but Lover by Taylor Swift is SUCH a JudeCardan album bro.

Tomorrow, Cardan and I will stand in front of an absurd amount of people in lavish clothes and be married. Despite our private (and binding) exchange of vows, several months ago Cardan expressed the desire to hold a wedding in the way he had always wanted--a revel, really, but with nicer clothes and the obligation for gifts. "I know it's not your style," he said, "but it's mine, and I would appreciate the compromise." So I sat down with him and planned it out--the food, the speeches, the decorations, the clothes. He wanted to mimic a mortal wedding in many ways, such as with the white dress and cake, but keep the eccentricity of the fae deeply woven into the event. I often just smiled and nodded at his ideas, only shooting down those that were too absurd. 

I wasn't against the idea--I did love him, and many people knew we were married already. The public wedding was more of a declaration that neither of us would take consorts, and that we planned to stay together for a long, long time. Neither of those were appalling to me, and yet I feel a deep pit in my stomach as I lay in bed next to a soundly sleeping Cardan. 

Out of my control, my mind starts to race through every terrible thing that could happen. What if, in fifty years, we hated each other the way we once had? What if this feeling was a flight of fancy, nothing permanent? What if one of us dies? It feels so daunting, to be tied to one person for the rest of my life (which will be as long as his, so long as I stay in Faerie). The idea of making our love so public is out of character for me, even if it's what Cardan wants. 

I must be crying, because I feel a soft thumb brush at my cheek bones and flutter my eyes open to see Cardan staring at me with knitted brows. "What's wrong, Jude?" he asks, shifting closer to put an arm around me. 

"I don't think you'll love me forever," I tell him, though it's the tiniest fraction of the thoughts running through my head. "It's a long time, and we've only cared for each other so shortly. I just feel like it'll fizzle out, but making our marriage this public will make it permanent."

I'm not sure what I want Cardan to say to me, so I'm grateful that he doesn't respond. Instead, he gently rubs circles into my shoulder. After several minutes of just the sound of our breaths, he kisses the top of my head. 

"I'm worried about it too," he tells me. "I don't know why. But when I'm around you, the thought moves to the back of my mind. I'm worried about us falling out of love until I see you, and I'm reminded just how deeply I am in it."

"I feel similarly," I tell him, "but sometimes it's still there. I don't know if that means I love you less, or--"

He cuts me off. "It just means you love me differently. There's no more or less, here."

"Okay."

"I think you're worried because of tomorrow, but when it's over you'll feel better. Do you want to talk more about it, or go to sleep?"

Crying's made me tired, so I choose the latter. This time, however, Cardan throws an arm and leg over me from behind and holds me. It's a change from the big baby he usually is, but I appreciate the comfort. 

...

By the time the sun begins to set, we're outside accepting the first of the gatherers. Each gift we received is opened on the spot, and Cardan seems thrilled by every one. Whether it's jewelry, clothes, crafts, or sentimental items, he accepts it more graciously than I've ever seen him. 

"You're in a good mood," I remark once the stragglers have made their way to and from the dais we stand on. 

"Of course I am. I'm receiving gifts." 

"No comment on how beautiful your loving wife looks?" I say, pretending to be offended. 

"No comment at all." He smiles at me from the corner of his mouth, and I know it's because he can't bring himself to lie to me and say I'm not lovely. And I have to admit it--I am. The dress we've chosen is long sleeved and covered in fine white glitter that never seems to come off, and the same substance is brushed across both of our eyelids and cheeks. My hair is done up intricately, and I'm wearing more jewelry than I think I ever have. Around my neck is a necklace so heavy I'm afraid it'll leave marks on my collar bone, and on my head is the most intricate crown in our collection, but that's what I get for letting Cardan dress me. 

"Thank you for doing this," he tells me after observing our guests. "I know you didn't want to, but I really appreciate it." 

"I'm stubborn," I tell him, uncomfortable saying 'you're welcome'. "I'm hard-headed and close minded much of the time. It's the least I could do to extend you some courtesy with this. I don't want you to regret marrying me." 

"I would never regret it, Jude. I married you knowing you're stubborn and hard-headed and close minded. You're a villain, but you're my villain, and I love you all the more for it." 

I smile at him, but it's words like this that make me worry. One day he won't feel the same, I'm sure. One day he'll decide I'm no longer worth the effort. 

Cardan interrupts my thoughts. "I've always felt that way, and I'm sure I always will." He grabs my hand, and we both speak to the guests in regal, projecting voices. And as the night goes on, the words from last night become true. I'm starting to feel better.


End file.
